


Piece Me Back Together

by SoulOfAFangirl684



Series: GX Headcanons [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sibling Love, english names used, excessive parentheses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 19:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18288983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulOfAFangirl684/pseuds/SoulOfAFangirl684
Summary: When Atticus Rhodes emerged from the darkness, it was a gradual process.'One step at a time,' he reminded himself. 'This is how you get your life back.'





	Piece Me Back Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last of the little forays into the minds of Jaden’s friends that I had planned. I have to say, I feel like I got a little closer to addressing the things I wanted to write about in regards to Jaden himself with each one. (That one is still in the works.) Atticus played a pretty significant part in both one-shots I wrote for Zane and Alexis as well. So there’s no real chronological order these have to be read in, but if you have seen the others, you may see some crossover here. (Between ideas, at least, if not specific events.) 
> 
> It should be noted that there’s a brief scene where Atticus kind of… self-administers exposure therapy on himself, and that this is not recommended without consulting a professional.

When Atticus Rhodes emerged from the darkness, it was a gradual process. At one point, back when he’d still had the strength to hope that there might be a way out of this hell, he’d anticipated it being like stepping out of a dark cave into bright sunlight. Maybe a little harsh at first, but immediately reassuring.

It was so painfully far from that.

His time spent in the hospital was almost like being back in that dark dimension. It was less horrific… but only in some ways. His mind and body (and _soul_ , he suspected) had to adjust back to the land of the light. It was days (or so the nurse said) before he was conscious of time passing. Alexis claimed to have come by at the same time each afternoon, but he couldn’t tell. Sometimes she was there and sometimes she wasn’t. He wasn’t aware enough for that to help him mark the passage of time. That his sister was by his bedside at all was about the only external thing he was aware of. Mostly, all he was conscious of during that hazy period was pain. Everything just… hurt. Every muscle in his whole aching body competed for his attention. Even the barest hint of sunlight was too much for his eyes.

The only reassuring thing about the whole process—and which he could only appreciate after the fact—was that he would be free once he had readjusted. The last time, his body had been fighting to be lost to that haze.

His—or rather, Nightshroud’s—duel with Jaden would come back to him later. His first clear memory back on this side of things was of suddenly coming to in his hospital bed, his eyes sore, his cheeks wet. Alexis was seated at his bedside, a haunted look marking her face, and he didn’t even want to think about all that she must have seen since arriving here at the academy.

“Oh,” she whispered after a moment, when she noticed the way his eyes remained focused on her. “ _Oh_. You’re back.”

Her eyes filled with tears as he did his best to crack a smile. His first in he couldn’t remember how long. “I’m back.”

If only it was really that simple.

**…………**

His physical recovery progressed mercifully quickly after that. He was grateful not to need full-on physical therapy. Ms. Fontaine insisted he stick to the wheelchair for the first few days, but he was up and crossing short distances with his own two feet in no time at all. His time as Nightshroud didn’t seem to have crippled his physical capabilities the way it had affected him in other areas.

His first day as a free man was rough. He’d admit it. He flinched as he crossed the threshold out of the infirmary. Alexis, rooted loyally to his side ever since he’d truly woken up, took note of this and only tightened her hold on his arm. He’d regained his ability to form a smile at this point and did his best to reassure her.

She led him back to his old dorm. Finally, his smile not only looked natural but _felt_ it. In his old, jovial tone, what had once been his usual affect, he joked, “Did you think I wouldn’t remember the way back to my own room?”

She smiled back and met him with the same tone. “Well, you’re always forgetting something. I thought you might need this.” She pulled a key out from underneath the collar of her shirt. It sat on a chain with another almost-identical key. He recognized the academy’s symbol etched into each one. Dorm keys. And one must have been his. He was about to ask where she’d gotten it… when she went to open the door.

“Ah! Wait…” He placed a hand over hers on the doorknob to stop her. She seemed surprised, but he rushed to reassure her with another smile. He was much more composed this time and could tell she bought what he was selling. “Thank you. For all of this. I know it’s been hard on you too. But this is something I want to do on my own. Okay?”

“Of course,” she said after a moment. He may have been composed now, but Atticus could see that his sister understood all the feelings underneath that.

She pulled the key back out, slipped it off the chain, and handed it over. And then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Not one of those light, shallow hugs—arms thrown over his shoulders. Her arms went right around his middle, her face tucked into his shoulder. He knew his time ‘recovering’ in the hospital had left him a little thinner than he used to be. And a part of him worried that this would leave _her_ with yet another thing to worry over. But this was the first time since he got back that anyone had handled him like a real person—like his old self. Not some fragile antique about to break. So he let himself have this moment.

When she was gone and he was left alone in front of that nondescript dorm door… Atticus still felt okay. He did remember the way. His life had been headquartered out of this room for nearly a year and a half. Yet it didn’t stir up any particular emotions in him. It was still just a backdrop to his life.

Atticus opened the door to a very familiar sight. Zane’s side of the room was always so clean that it took him a minute to notice his room mate had moved out entirely. His eyes passed over the empty space a few times, a little surprised to find that this sight didn’t stir up any real emotion in him either. The memories of seeing Zane again at the scene of Nightshroud’s duel, of Zane coming to visit him while hospitalized… were still hazy and drifting back to him slowly, but they were enough. His once-room mate, once-rival, and possibly once-friend had long surpassed him in his absence. While he’d been stuck in his own darkness, Zane had continued to grow.

It wasn’t like he had some sort of complex over it. Zane had been the one invested in a rivalry between them, and even that had seemed to fade away as their days passed. Atticus was hardly obsessed with catching up now. He wasn’t sure what the path to the rest of his recovery looked like, but his first plan was to try and get back to normal. He supposed it was a little sad, though, in a nostalgic way. Like the connection they’d once shared had just… faded away.

Atticus moved on to the side of the room that had belonged to him. Still did, he supposed. But, though it looked as if nothing had been touched since he’d last left, it wasn’t much of a homecoming. He ran his fingers over some of the clothing in (spilling out of) his closet, sat down on his unmade bed for a few minutes, just looking around. He recognized these things as his own… but felt no attachment to these possessions that he’d once displayed so proudly as definitions of himself. They were just… _things_. Material possessions. Such small components of a person’s life.

Somehow, this wasn’t the liberating revelation he’d often seen it portrayed to be.

Finally, Atticus stood back up and made a real effort to reconnect with the person he had been. After all, this _was_ what he had wanted. What he’d fought to get back to.

He crossed the room to stand beside his desk, running a hand over its uncluttered surface. (And then immediately wringing his hand to try and shake off the dust.) It was the first sight to bring a smile to his face. Atticus had been a pretty good student, actually. He was just the type to take his work with him. He couldn’t find inspiration or motivation sitting alone in a quiet room like so many of the school’s other top scholars, like Zane. His notebooks could be seen scattered around the whole dorm, wherever he’d happened to pause a moment to… well, _take note_ of something. Finally, this felt real. Something he could point to not with the vague feeling of _I was that person_ but with the clearer distinction of _That’s who I am_.

It gave him the strength to keep going. He stopped again at the window. This side of the building looked out on the forest rather than the lake. Atticus had loved this view, especially on a rainy day. Zane had commented once that he was surprised his ever-cheerful room mate had enjoyed such a gloomy sight. But to Atticus, it had been magical. Romantic in the way of dark fairy tales… He decided that wasn’t a feeling he wanted to linger on just now.

He walked on slowly, looping back around to the little table beside his bed. Sure enough, here was one of his notebooks. It was almost enough to coax another smile from him. But he’d fallen into the habit of exploring with his hands first and eyes second. Something much smaller than a sheet of paper slid under his fingers so he glanced down… and immediately froze.

It was one of his Duel Monsters cards. He’d had yet to touch one since his reawakening and not accidentally. Alexis had tried to bring him his deck in the hospital, thinking to raise his morale, but he’d refused to even look at it, turning his head away. His deck had been his lifeline, the only thing keeping him alive. It had also been the medium through which Nightshroud had taken over. He had half a mind to completely rework his deck before he could use it competitively again… but even taking it apart was a little more than he was up for just now.

These cards weren’t even contaminated with those dark memories. They were his auxiliary cards—part of a side deck at best. The cards he’d been considering switching out with the ones he used competitively. But it was still too much, apparently. That one glance down brought him right back to that afternoon, back to when everything had still been normal.

It was so quick. Atticus didn’t register any pain before he was on his knees on the floor, one arm bracing himself against his bed. (It didn’t help much. The mattress was too soft to provide real support.) As was his usual these days, reality came back to him in bits and pieces. First his chest hurt, then he became aware of the way he was gasping for breath. He seemed to be overheating from the inside out… The feel of sweat coating every inch of his skin reached him soon after.

This was it. The darkness had come back for him and this time it was playing for keeps and he almost _wished_ Nightshroud was still around to shield him again and _ohgodhewasgoingtodie_ —

Atticus had read about panic attacks before. But this was nothing like he’d seen it in fiction. There was no one to hold him close and whisper logical reassurances, coaxing it away. Frankly, he didn’t think the logic would have reached him, and he wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of being held just now. Not when everything else was already much too close, pressing in on all of his senses.

Instead, it gradually subsided on its own, and not nearly soon enough. He realized the darkness and claustrophobia came from being hunched over in a corner of the room, his face nearly pressed right into the narrow space between his bed and bedside table. He sat back, hard, and forced his shaking fingers to free him from his outer jacket. The sweat quickly cooled on his skin, the chill helping to chase away most of the lingering nausea. He had to consciously slow his breathing now that it felt like he was getting enough air again.

At last, Atticus rested his head back against his mattress and closed his eyes. It felt… rather anticlimactic now that it was over. He was glad his sister hadn’t been around the see it, though.

 _One step at a time_ , he reminded himself. _This is how you get your life back_.

He didn’t know how much time passed before he got back on his feet and continued on. But he _did_ get up, and he _did_ continue on, and that was what mattered.

…………

The reunion with his parents was a little rougher than the one with his sister. It took place weeks later, for one. He hadn’t understood the reluctance at first. He knew the academy’s efforts to find him had been… less than superb, but he didn’t really hold that against them. He didn’t _expect_ anyone to be equipped to deal with the forces that had held him hostage. But perhaps the school administration had just wanted to cover their bases this time. Make sure he really _was_ going to make a full recovery before they announced it.

And Atticus himself was hardly enraged by this injustice. He _was_ readjusting to being back on this side of things again. And while sometimes it was glaringly obvious that he’d missed a year and a half of his life, it didn’t usually feel that way. He hadn’t really been conscious of time passing as Nightshroud. And he’d gotten used to living without them, away at a boarding school like Duel Academy. So Atticus didn’t miss his parents much more than usual upon his return. He _had_ jumped headfirst into reclaiming his old life, and Atticus Rhodes had been cheerful and confident. Dare he say, even a little… extra. Reflecting on how his parents must have missed _him_ made it a little difficult to maintain that image.

( _Repress, repress, repress_ , whispered a vicious little voice in the back of his mind.)

It was Alexis’s hesitance that really made him apprehensive. His sister seemed to be holding up well herself. She’d always been independent. She’d found herself a good group of friends, but Atticus knew she was doing her best not to rely on them too much. She easily laughed (or sighed) off their surprise at his unpredictable behavior. (“Yup. That’s my brother for you…”) He knew his quick return to his old ways was just as much to reassure her as himself. And he and Alexis had always been on good terms, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that she had a bit more patience for his antics these days.

So the guarded look that rose in her eyes when he first brought up their parents set off some immediate alarm bells. She never tried to actively dissuade him from talking to them… but she made a point to be there for their first video call.

It was about what he’d expected. His parents had been informed of his return, but seeing him again with their own eyes resulted in lots of tears. He did his best to reassure them as well. It was… fine. What he’d expected. A brief visit home had been approved, but he was adamant about catching up on his studies, remaining a student at Duel Academy.

He didn’t see the red flags in that video conference. Sure, he saw them tense up at that first mention of his return, but he brushed it off. When he and Alexis boarded a boat back to the mainland a week later, he still felt unconcerned.

His first hint of an eerie, _off_ feeling, however, came just moments after walking through the front door. His childhood home was nothing short of extravagant. But, like stepping back into his dorm for the first time, he felt next to no attachment to it. He and Alexis had very much been latchkey kids. They’d spent more time with nannies and maids than their mother and father. But Atticus had never resented them for being so busy. He and his sister had been kept busy themselves. And they’d had each other for company. There was love in this house. It was just a little… distant.

Now he wasn’t sure he could even claim that much. Actually being with his parents in person again had already proven tiring. It brought him right back to his early days in the hospital. When everyone had treated him like he was made of glass. But that had to count for something, right? He’d needed time to adjust too, after all.

He didn’t notice it at first, walking up the stairs. But he froze immediately upon entering his room. It was so very different from his time in his dorm. It was so… empty in here. His belongings had not just been straightened up but packed up and taken away from the looks of it.

In Alexis’s room, this change may not have been so evident. But Atticus had possessions galore, and his room had been a bit cluttered even after packing his bags for Duel Academy. (It had been quite the hassle, trying to figure out what he’d really _needed_.)

The emptiness of his room now was disorienting, to say the least. He’d returned home a few times during his first year—for breaks and holidays and the like—and his room had always been just the way he’d left it. This emptiness now was rather disturbing, actually. Didn’t parents usually immortalize the rooms of their missing children?

Atticus dropped his stuff on his bed and slowly retreated back out into the hall. He started the walk down to Alexis’s room but soon found that empty as well. Of her, anyway. It was on his way back to the first floor that he spotted the empty spots on the walls where family photos had once hung.

He picked up the pace with a frown. There was a small table up against the wall in the front entrance hall, almost completely for show. It was another place to display happy family photos—make this place seem more lived-in than it actually was. And there was his parents’ wedding photo in the center, and the pictures chronicling Alexis’s growth on one side… But the matching line of photos… the ones that had completed this image’s symmetry… the ones of _him_ were just… gone. (In hindsight, he supposed he should be grateful his sister’s pictures hadn’t been repositioned to make her look like an only child. Little victories.)

He heard raised voices drifting out of the dining hall but—though he recognized Alexis’s immediately—he couldn’t quite make out the words. He was in motion again within seconds. And pretty soon the words were uncomfortably clear.

“What _is_ all this? I’m gone for a few months and you just get rid of every trace of Atticus in this house?” His sister sounded furious, and he could hardly blame her. Having Alexis as backup did help to temper his own anger a little, though.

“Lexi…” their mother started in a tone so placating it was nearly outright condescending. “It’s not like that. You were so distraught that whole last year… We were all grieving, but it was verging on unhealthy, really. We thought it would be easier to heal here if—”

“Don’t you dare try to make this about _me_. Don’t you feel any shame at all? Your son disappears and you think the best response is to act like he never existed at all?”

“Alexis. Don’t speak to your mother that way.” And there was his dad, ever the calm mediator. “And that’s uncalled for. You know we mourned for your brother too.”

“Exactly. You _mourned_ him.” Alexis was losing some of her steam. Atticus closed his eyes and leaned up against the wall, just out of sight of the dining room doorway, absorbing in every word. “You wrote him off before the school year was even over. Pretty soon, the _maids_ wouldn’t even say his name—like there was some silent ban on it. Do you think I don’t remember?”

“Do we think you don’t remember…?” His mother had dropped her placating tone entirely as she slowly repeated the words. It was a shock to hear the shards of glass in her voice now. Like a ruined art project that had been haphazardly taped back together. It wasn’t any less broken, just doing its damnedest to look otherwise. For the first time, it occurred to Atticus that maybe they weren’t handling him with such care because they were afraid _he’d_ shatter with one wrong move. “Well, do you know what _I_ remember, Alexis? You refusing to get out of bed for more than an hour at a time for almost two weeks. Having to rush you to the hospital after collapsing because you refused to eat. Leaving the hospital and realizing I was _relieved_ to have only lost Atticus, because for a while there, I’d thought I was going to lose you _both_. How do you think _that_ made me feel?!”

Atticus had brought a hand up to cover his mouth, just in case. His mother sounded near-hysterical. He could only imagine that the commotion that ensued was his father trying to comfort her… and his mother pushing him back away, because she went on, and her voice was stronger as she finished her speech. “So yes. Maybe I did push his memory away too soon. But there was no guarantee we’d ever see him again. And I’ve seen what misplaced hope does to people.”

“You can’t even look at him.” Alexis’s response was accusatory, but much smaller. She sounded very young all of a sudden. “And that ‘misplaced hope’ is called _love_ , Mom.”

Her voice broke at the end, and that finally propelled him forward, over the threshold and into the room. He ignored his parents’ surprised looks and wrapped his arms around his sister, much the same way she had that day at the dorms. His larger arms encircled her a little more easily, though, and she let him support her almost fully. At some point, their parents gave them the room, and he didn’t try to stop them. There would be time to discuss what he’d learned today later.

“You’ve grown up so much,” he whispered at last, his own voice cracking. “I’m sorry that you had to.”

This was the first time real tears had been shed between the two of them since his return. It took her a moment to compose herself long enough to answer. “I’m not. It wasn’t pretty, but it made me stronger. I can’t go back and undo that now, and I wouldn’t _want_ to.”

He had to laugh a little, even if it was bittersweet. “You’ve been spending too much time with Zane.”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “He never shared much, but he cared about finding you almost as much as I did. I could tell.”

“I’m glad you two had each other.”

“ _I’m_ glad to have _you_ again.”

He pulled back just enough for her to see his sad little smile. “It’s probably not quite the way you pictured it.”

She smiled back and shook her head. “I don’t care. I just wanted you back. It didn’t matter what shape the universe returned you in. Whatever happened afterwards, we could deal with together.”

**…………**

It would be a long journey. One that most of their friends wouldn’t get close enough to see, even in bits and pieces. But some things had not changed. As was his nature, Atticus jumped headfirst into his struggles.

Alexis got her first close-up look before that week home was even over. She’d gone looking for him one quiet afternoon. Their parents hadn’t even taken the week completely off from work, (surprise, surprise) and so they’d been left on their own quite a bit. It was like time had been rewound to when they were kids. Like this wasn’t supposed to be their big reunion week.

She finally found him by throwing open doors at random. There were certainly enough rooms in this house that went unused. Atticus was laying on his back on the floor of one of the spare rooms. All the lights were off and the shades had been pulled tight over the windows. The only light in the room was what spilled in now from the hallway. But Alexis didn’t register any of this at first. All she saw was her brother, visibly sweating and shaking, squinting at her from the floor.

“Atticus!” She rushed in and dropped to her knees by his side. But, though he still looked frighteningly ill, he smiled weakly at her.

“Relax, Lex. I’m okay. This is just some conditioning.”

“Conditioning…” she repeated blankly, but the tension did leak out of her. She took a better look at her surroundings, the way Atticus’s breathing was slowly returning to normal. “Is this… safe?”

He shrugged from his position on the floor. “I’ve been reading up on exposure therapy. This is my version of it basically. My _mind_ knows not to be afraid of the dark. Now I just have to teach my body.”

“Atticus, have you thought about… talking to someone about all this?”

“I’ve thought about it… I’m not sure how I’d explain what happened without convincing any sane person that I’ve got _other_ problems, though. I want to see what I can do for myself first.”

“Would it be alright if I stayed?”

“You don’t have to. But yeah, sure. If you want to. Just close the door, okay?”

She did as he asked and lay down beside him on the floor, staring up at the ceiling it was too dark to actually see. She could already _feel_ that he’d tensed beside her. Her hand sought out his, and she entwined their fingers. For a while they just lay there in the dark, in silence.

“It is getting better, actually,” he murmured after a moment. “The smaller triggers are worse. It’s harder to see them coming.”

Alexis didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure she could, what with the way his words made her throat constrict. She just squeezed his hand and waited out this session.

**…………**

Dueling was harder. Alexis pushed him continually to duel her during their time alone in the house, insisting that she’d improved in their time apart and wanted him to see it. But perhaps it was always more than that.

She didn’t seem surprised to see him shaken by this as well. It was as casual as could possibly be. They weren’t even using their duel disks with their holographic technology. Their cards were spread out on the table before them, like old times.

They were only a few turns in before Atticus threw down his hand and fled the room. Alexis found him wedged into the window seat of their front showroom, the one used to entertain important guests. The big window looked out over the well-lit, sprawling front yard. The sight was all sunshine and blooming flowers right now. Not a shadow to be seen.

Alexis seated herself opposite him, her back up against the other end of the window. This was yet another position they’d often taken up as children, albeit typically on stormy days when they couldn’t play outside.

His trembles were subsiding, but his face was still pale, and he didn’t bother with a reassuring smile this time. His sister had seen plenty at this point, and it was actually something of a relief to know he couldn’t fool her into thinking he was just fine.

“I couldn’t stay,” he said at last. “I don’t always stay… present with these… attacks. My cards… They were _his_ for so long…”

“You were afraid Nightshroud would take over again if you… lost yourself,” she concluded for him.

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh, resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. She nudged his leg with a toe and pointed out in a lighter voice, “They were your cards first, Atticus. And Nightshroud is gone. But if you think it would help to build a new deck…”

“No,” he answered softly. “You’re right; they’re _my_ cards. I built that deck, adding to it with every lesson I learned. This is just another stepping stone.” Finally, he smiled at her, but genuinely, not in an attempt to blow over the dreariness of it all. “I’ll learn from this too.”

**…………**

There was not actually much reuniting in that week designated for the Rhodes family reunion. Even when his parents were home, there was a distance that remained between them. Alexis wasn’t wrong. They _had_ written him off. And he couldn’t even stay mad about that, honestly. He knew it was largely for self-preservation. He’d never wavered in his determination to return to the place that had taken him from them once. It was not lack of love that left them afraid to lose him _again_ , after all. He could appreciate that, even if it was a little hard to live with.

But there were little breakthroughs. His second to last day home found Atticus out on the back porch with his ukulele, doing his best to recreate a song that had come out in his absence. It was the calmest he’d felt since returning home. Perhaps since returning to his own mind.

He’d taken a break—stuck on the places the bridge deviated from the chorus—and sat back… only to see his dad hovering in the doorway, frozen in place. Mr. Rhodes didn’t quite have time to wipe the starstruck expression from his face before their eyes met. Atticus smiled at him easily.

“Don’t be too impressed yet. I’m still out of practice.”

His father had stammered out some response and hastily moved on, but it left Atticus with a warm feeling. He knew what had really moved his father had been seeing his son looking like his old self again. Like nothing had happened. Or maybe like that old self wasn’t so irretrievable after all.

He knew the feeling. He’d just begun to realize it himself.

The next afternoon had called for their goodbyes. The break between semesters was right around the corner, but they wouldn’t be returning. Atticus had his studies to catch up on, and his sister planned to remain close by. The car that would take the Rhodes children back across town to the ferry that would drop them back off on Academy Island was idling outside. Alexis made her farewells first. They were decidedly… stiff. Atticus could see that his parents expected much the same as they turned to him.

He surprised them both by pulling them into one big hug. His mother’s eyes teared up, and he gave her cheek an extra kiss.

“Don’t look so sad,” he chided lightly, another real smile in place. “I’ll be back.”

Mrs. Rhodes sniffed. “You said that last time too.”

“And here I am,” he replied lightly. No one mentioned the obvious things these words overlooked. Alexis and Atticus made their exit, and he could only hope he’d left his parents in a better state than they’d been when he arrived. That maybe their hope didn’t seem quite so misplaced anymore.

**…………**

It proved to be a long journey indeed. Atticus returned to Duel Academy, where everything that had made him who he was remained in pieces around him. It was just a matter of connecting those pieces and sewing them back together. And, as was the course of life, new pieces slowly made themselves known in the process.

He still dueled only when necessary, but it did get easier. (Ironically, he thought his teachers might have noticed this reluctance more than his friends.) And he always had Alexis by his side. It was a little hard to let go of their status quo—the days when he’d been _her_ protector. But now they supported _each other_ , and he couldn’t say he really minded this change.

He’d always had a radar of sorts for whenever Alexis had something serious on her mind. And apparently she’d started developing her own.

He wasn’t surprised when she showed up on the pier where he was going over his deck once again. It was a little easier now. He’d come to enjoy the feel of his cards again. But Atticus couldn’t deny that some of the darkness remained. And it had been weighing on his mind lately.

“You’ve been quiet today,” she said, sitting down beside him. He knew she and Zane had spent many an afternoon standing in this very spot, pondering his disappearance. “Is everything okay?”

“Just thinking,” he answered but held out a single card to her.

Alexis took it curiously… then flinched when she flipped it over. In a voice that she probably intended to be calm but which came out as more of an exclamation, she answered with, “You still have Nightshroud’s card?! Why haven’t you…?”

“Torn it up? Set it on fire? Thrown the pieces in the ocean?” he supplied, his voice still light. “I have. Twice over. It keeps finding its way back.”

“You don’t seem that concerned…” she commented, sounding unsettled. He kept his eyes on the waves, though. Atticus could admit it—he was a little afraid the panic would pull him back in if he had to see her expression just now. And even this small distance made it easier to be truly honest. With his sister _and_ himself.

“Believe me, I was the first time. Worst attack to date. But it didn’t go away, so… I adjusted. Not so different from everything else lately.”

Alexis seemed unconvinced. “Maybe. I’d still feel better if we could lock it away in a vault somewhere.”

Atticus hummed thoughtfully, taking his card back and scrutinizing it without fear. “I’m not so sure anymore. Hear me out, okay? Nightshroud didn’t just appear out of nowhere, and I’m not convinced he was just some outside force I picked up in that other realm. There is no light without darkness, right? Nightshroud was already a part of me; I’m sure of it now.”

“Well, _I_ don’t believe that!” Alexis cut in at once. 

But he cut off her defense with a sad smile. “It’s _okay_ , Lex. Really. I’m getting a little sick of playing it safe with this charade—pretending I’m the same person I’ve always been. That’s not possible, and maybe you were right; maybe that’s for the best. Maybe I didn’t really know myself before. I feel… stronger now. If darkness can’t exist without light, then it can’t be all bad, right?”

Alexis pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them. “If you say so… But Zane doesn’t seem to be doing so well…”

Atticus hummed again. “No… But when I finally learn to work _with_ my own darkness… maybe I can help him too.”

Alexis didn’t answer. He could tell she still wasn’t crazy about the idea, but he had her support. And that was what really mattered. The two stayed there for a long time, staring out over the water. The shadows had loosened their hold on him, but perhaps it wasn’t necessary to banish them completely. The journey was still far from over, but there was hope in their future.

**Author's Note:**

> Atticus has always been one of my favorite characters… At first just because I was expecting him to be this big ball of angst and was pleasantly surprised at how… fun he turned out to be. He just made me smile. But then, as the series went on, he turned into one of the few who actually felt developed somewhat completely. One of a few characters used to explore darkness and light. I was originally planning to take the story of his recovery all the way up to the end… But I explored Atticus a little in my Zane one-shot, and the series itself actually does a decent job with him. It was his early days where he was really neglected. So I’m going to leave this here.


End file.
